


Familiarity

by slytherinquoll



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinquoll/pseuds/slytherinquoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John just enjoy each other's presence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiarity

            John came downstairs and wandered into the kitchen in search of a clean mug, and wondered vaguely if Sherlock had managed not to break the new kettle yet or if he was going to have to light up the stove again. He afforded Sherlock no more than a passing glance. He was on the sofa flat on his back, eyes closed, legs hanging over one side.

            John was in luck. It appeared that the new kettle was still in perfect working order. He filled it with water from the tap and switched it on and began rummaging around the kitchen for some sort of cup or mug that wasn’t hosting a nest of cultures, whether one of Sherlock’s experiments or simply from the general lack of cleanliness and disregard for the washing up. Just when it was looking desperate, he finally found a large blue mug in one of his second passes over the cupboards.

            Water boiled, and tea made, he looked back at the sofa. Sherlock had not moved. He wondered if he had even so much as opened his eyes. John did not doubt that despite whatever his flatmate was working out in his mind, he was also following John’s tea-making actions through sound and deduction and somehow familiarity with John. And of course he knew, eyes closed, fingers steepled at his lips, that John was standing there, watching him.

            ‘Alright.’ John sighed.

            ‘Alright what?’

            ‘Alright I’ll come sit down. You were wondering why I was standing there.’

Sherlock opened an eye, eyebrow raised to look up at John.

            ‘Yes well, you were trying ‘figure me out’ again, weren’t you? Don’t do that, you’re no good at it. And you’ll see I did not break the new kettle. Have you no faith in me?’

            John came around to sit down on the sofa, holding his tea close and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

            ‘Well, how was _your_ day then? Lestrade have any promising cases?’

Sherlock pulled his fingers apart dramatically, one arm falling off the sofa towards the ground.

            ‘Mycroft came round.’

            ‘Oh, what was so important your brother had to pay you a visit personally?’ John asked.

            ‘Nothing, just dramatics.’

            ‘At least he didn’t kidnap you,’ John muttered, taking a sip of tea. ‘Actually, he hasn’t done that to me lately. It’s usually me who ends up being shuffled off into a dark car being driven to some ridiculous location.’

            There was a soft silence, then Sherlock spoke. ‘That’s because you were the subject of today’s conversation.’

            ‘I—oh.’ Why was Mycroft talking to Sherlock about _him_ , he wondered.

            ‘He says he has noticed an _improvement_ since you moved in. He says I’m more _stable_.’ He paused for a second. ‘And I cannot say his observations are false.’ Sherlock finished, tilting his head back to look up at John.

            John sighed. Mycroft had hinted as much to him. The Holmes boys had a funny way of feeling they needed to hide their emotions.

            Sherlock brought his arm up over his head so that the back of his hand was just brushing against John’s leg. Shifting his tea into his left hand, John reached out and gingerly stroked the mop of dark curls next to him. Relaxing back into the cushions, they sat in silence for a while.


End file.
